In boot camp on Parris Island, there was a special event that took place during our late training. Not the gas chamber where your face actually melts a little, nor the Crucible, or the "Oops, all war" mind games where they herd you into a classroom and announce that the country is officially at war with [insert current tyrannical villainous country] and you're all going to go.

We recruits, all elbows and awkwardness, were to run the Confidence Course near the end of second phase of basic training. One fine morning, our drill instructors marched us out to the field in South Carolina, after having given us a solid pep talk about putting mind over matter, and introduced us to the event that would occupy our whole day. We were encouraged to tackle the course with dauntless disregard, because you know gravity cares a lot about that, and to conquer our fears.

Many of you may have heard of the Obstacle Course which Marines run fairly regularly for exercise. I had seen it as a new recruit and it looked insurmountable. Giant logs, ropes, high pull-up bars, etc. all look perfect for breaking my first bone on.

The Confidence Course, on the other hand was designed to look impossible. To paraphrase the wiki about it, " The course has 11 to 15 obstacles, depending on the location, and includes features like a two-story log ladder, a 6-foot wooden structure, a rope tower, and a 90-foot cable slide over water. The course originated from the British Royal Commandos and was adopted by the Marine Corps in the late 1950s. The course has no published guidance pertaining to safety and may cause injuries to the participants."

Well. So that sounds nice.

Especially as I am really afraid of heights.

No sweat.

As my platoon formed an orderly queue to begin climbing the tall, tall tower stairs to begin my first and most terrifying event, my throat kept trying to close as I stared around me like a death row inmate. The Slide For Life. Please allow me to emphasize it's a 90 foot cable slide above water. Fetid, blackish green, algae infested water. Now you'd be right to think as a Fluffy Clamshell, I should be fine with this, but I absolutely was not. Trying to soothe myself as I climbed higher and higher up the tower, I felt my heartbeat in my ears. The sunlight was so bright and my senior drill instructor, SSgt Whitebull, was standing at the top of the tower to make sure every single recruit went down via the rope or a sudden drop. She looked like Dark Pocahontas, glaring in her maroon 4th battalion jersey and green running shorts. I was struggling to figure out what was most terrifying, her or the incredible space between me and the ground.

And then the wait was over. There I stood, looking at the single, thin rope I was to slide down on my stomach. I licked my lips and started to walk to the mounting spot. I glanced at SSgt Whitebull. She sneered.

"WELL? WHAT ARE YOU STINKING WAITING FOR, RECRUIT? YOU THINK I GOT ALL DAY FOR YOU???"

Not quite believing I was actually doing this, I started to try to lay down on the rope. Slow, easy, don't rush, get your balance. I reached out my arms above my head and gripped the rope. I cocked my right leg and hooked my ankle on the rope, letting my other leg dangle. Taking a deep breath, I realized I was on and stable. I began pulling myself down the incline, fixing my gaze on the rope as I slowly descended from the tower to the ground. Any time I started to feel the rope bounce, I slowed to be sure not to knock myself off. The rope was biting my hands and digging into my crotch, but I was steady and if I could endure it a bit more, I might make it.

By the 2/3rds mark, I experienced a sense of elation. I was doing it! I'd been up here a whopping 3 minutes and I hadn't died yet. Maybe I can do this!

As I started pulling a little faster, I felt the rope suddenly buck hard. I dropped all pretense of orderly and purposeful motion and wrapped all my limbs around the rope as it jerked and kicked me up and down above the moat. Vertigo took hold as the ground, the sky, and the stuff in between traded places at dizzying speeds. When the world stopped spinning wildly for 360 degrees, I caught sight of SSgt Whitebull, hand clutching the rope and shaking it vigorously.

"Hurry the hell up!" she was shouting from 60 feet away.

I clung like a panicked possum, refusing to release the rope while she shook me all over.

Yooooooou BIIIIIIIITCCHHHH I thought as I spastically revolved around my rope.

Finally, exhausted, I lost my hold and plummeted into the gooey morass below.

Dripping like a swamp rat, I crawled out at the end of the pool and laid there for a second cursing my DI in my head with all the creativity I could I muster. That night, when we returned to the barracks to shower, I noticed I was limping a bit. But since I had 83 seconds to complete my ablutions, I hurried up and shuffled out for health inspection before lights out.

At health inspection, we all stood in a formation in our underwear so our drill instructors could make sure we weren't hiding any injuries. When the drill instructor circled me in my turn, she took a sharp breath.

"Recruit, look at your right calf."

Confused, I broke the position of attention and looked as ordered. There, four or five inches in length, was a dark black bruise on my calf. I admired it for a moment and then returned to attention.

"This recruit fell from the slide for life, ma'am."

"Looks like you put up a fight." With nothing else to say, she moved to the next recruit.

Thank the gods, I never had to try that damn slide again.